


Amber Orange, six dwarves, one elf and a prince nobody asked for

by Sattar



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, pillow bickering, sarcasm and flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sattar/pseuds/Sattar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fairytale in a pillow talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amber Orange, six dwarves, one elf and a prince nobody asked for

**Author's Note:**

> for tumblr prompt

“Hawke, wake up,” Fenris’ voice said softly into her ear.

“Nrgh,” she growled without waking up and confrontationally bumped her cheek against his, as his chin rested on her shoulder.

“Eloquent as always,” she could feel his lips grinning against her skin.

“Mhm, please”, she pleaded, turned around and curved against him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“I would comply gladly,” he said against her temple, voice soft and deep, his arms circling around her, so she felt herself melting in the warmth and drifting into the dreams again, when he raised his voice with the tone of amusement, “but this evening you told me in no uncertain terms that I, - and I quote here, - “should not be such a softie” and stop listening to your pleas.”

Still mostly asleep, she found a familiar hollow of his throat with her lips and kissed it softly, feeling the steady pulse under his skin. “Darling, just a little longer…”

“You also told me to remove the blanket if you don’t react.”

 _What a betrayal_ , she thought, waking up. _I kiss his collarbones and he threatens to take away my blanket. This calls for a retribution._

“Mmm, please, Zevran, please, just a little longer, after all, I was ready to throw away six damn years I spent courting one paranoid dude for a moment of bliss in the bushes with you.”

“Six years of courting is a strong phrase. It was fifteen minutes of actual courting at most and six years of bad puns and even worse plans.”

“And I was ready to latch onto the next light-haired murderous elf with funny accent and swirly tattoos that came along, if this ungrateful carp, who doesn’t appreciate incredible amount of stellar humour he was presented with, didn’t threaten people with bodily harm.”

“Ah, so you’re finally awake.”

“Not at all,” she said stubbornly. “I’m in the hot dream with the few dozens of Antivan assassins.”

“Perhaps a little tickling will help then…”

“Gah! No! You promised you wouldn’t!” she threw her head back to look at his smirking face.

“Okay, we need to get up now.”

“I can’t get up,” she said, squinting against the sun rays to look at him. Even on the regular basis Fenris had a permanent bed-hair more impressive than most people could get after three nights of orgies, so you didn’t actually expect that it could worse - but he managed. Right now, illuminated from the back by the rising sun, it was a messily fluffy halo, tender glow contrasting with hard planes and angles of his body. “Because I’m dying.”

He rolled his eyes.

“What of? Laziness?”

He got easier with this type of joking. First time she said she’s dying he almost grabbed her and ran for the healer. She still made sure to let him know she’s just joking first.

“A terrible curse. I cannot wake up.”

“Really.”

“Yeah! Do you know the fairytale about Snow White?”

“I only know fairytales that you’ve shown me,” he said with quiet seriousness that always broke her heart a little. Impulsively, she leaned in to kiss him, one of the raw, unhinged kisses with which they covered each other’s vulnerabilities.

“Ah, screw it, we’re gonna be an hour late,” she said after they broke the kiss, lounging against him. “Or two. I’m not missing a morning of revoltingly cute cooing with you.”

“Mmm,” he grinned with smug satisfaction, “But what will Varric say?”

“He’ll be grateful, because otherwise he’d have to watch us being revoltingly cute.”

“I’m not being any degree of cute at any given time.”

“Oh yeah? What would you call then these random sharing of valuable information, such as “I enjoy following you” and “I’m yours”?

He shrugged, grinning.

“Status updates.”

She chuckled, kissing him lightly and ruffling his hair.

“So, tell me this story of yours,” Fenris said, stretching up next to her, propping up his head to see her face.

“Once upon a time there were a king and queen and they wanted to have a baby, but couldn’t. So they did some sort of magic ritual then…”

“Blood magic.”

“And the queen was finally pregnant and the whole kingdom rejoiced. But the queen died during childbirth, leaving the king in grief with the his daughter.”

“Suits him well. What did he expect after using blood magic? Could have opted for adoption.”

“Yeah, but there’s all that bullshit about royal lineages and stuff.”

“I’m not going to sympathize with anyone who kills their significant other to procreate, no matter their excuses.”

“Well, when you put it like *this*! Anyway, it was a superb baby. She grew up into a beautiful girl, with hair black as night, lips red as blood and… and eyes orange as amber. So she was called Amber Orange.”

“I thought you said it was Snow White?”

“Yeah, but I decided to change it, because it’s kinda stupid thing to brag about? “I’m pale as a toadstool, look, it’s in my name!” And what if she got some tan? It’d be just awkward.”

He smiled lazily and slung one arm over her waist to stroke her side with absent-minded tenderness.

“Then king married again, but the new queen was secretly an evil witch!”

“Social-climbing blood mage. Typical.”

“Fenris! Can you not bring your judgmental crap against mages at least into a fairytale?”

“What? You’re are telling a story with the “evil witch” as the villain and I’m judgmental?”

“Well, the hero is also a mage!”

“Indeed?”

“Yeah! So, the stepmother has a magical mirror and everyday she asks it “Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?” The mirror always replies, “My Queen, you are the fairest one of all.”

“What a waste of the eluvian powers.”

“But as Amber Orange grows up, she becomes more beautiful each day and even more beautiful than the Queen, and when the Queen asks her mirror, it tells her that Amber Orange is the fairest. The queen is pissed off and wants to kill Amber Orange!”

“So far it all sounds very realistic.”

“She asks her huntsman to lead Amber Orange into the woods, kill her and bring her heart back as a proof.”

“As if some simple huntsman could take the only heir to the royal throne into the woods without any guards.”

“Ugh, can you not?”

“Sure, it’s not like I know anything about bodyguards.”

“So, in the woods, the huntsman raises his knife to strike Amber Orange, he sees that she’s kind and wonderful and innocent and… ”

“Cannot bring himself to kill her?”

“…And is set on fire by her Fireball, because she’s a mage and this jerk tried to kill her!”

“Fair enough.”

“Amber Orange runs away from this shit-mess of a family and finds a house in the woods, where seven dwarves live peacefully. Wait, no, six dwarves and one elf! Their names are Happy, Sleepy, Bashful, Sneezy, Clumsy, Dopey aaaaand Grumpy! Guess which one is an elf?”

“Not Amused-ey.”

“Aw, come on, it was a good one! So, the Queen asks her mirror again and the damn thing rats out Amber Orange. The Queen then makes a poisoned apple and goes to Amber Orange, disguised as an old lady. She offers Amber Orange this apple as a gift, but when the girl bites it, she falls into a magical sleep.”

“Hah, this is an extremely educational fairytale”, Fenris said in a satisfied tone, slid his hand down her hips and pulled her closer, shifting to hover over her. “The moral of a story is that Amber Orange should not trust everyone she meets, especially blood mages with demonic magical mirrors.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, leave Merrill alone, she can’t make her mirror to reflect anything, let alone to hold beauty contests.”

“Incompetence is not a proof of…”

“Will you let me finish?”

“Wait, it’s not the end? I thought we reached the logical finale.”

“No, of course it’s not the end! What kind of fairytale could end like this?”

“The realistic one,” he said, leaning down to kiss her throat.

“Anyway! It looked like Amber Orange is dead, but the dwarves couldn’t bring themselves to bury her,” Erica continued, struggling to ignore warm lips on her neck. “Instead, they made a glass coffin and put her body in it.”

“It sounds… alarmingly creepy,” Fenris muttered without lifting his head.

“Yeah, whatever, it’s for kids,” she said absently, arching in his arms. He chuckled, low rumbling sound that sent shivers under her skin. “So she was lying in that coffin until the prince came along and…”

“What prince?” Fenris asked suspiciously, pulling away a little.

 _Dammit,_ she thought. _The prince is a strategical mistake after introducing Grumpy the elf. Well, shouldn’t have distracted me!_

“Some random prince, wandering around. He saw how beautiful she is, and opened a coffin and kissed her…”

“Okay, this is getting exceedingly creepy.”

“Yeah, but it’s ok, because then she woke up!”

“Because she was outraged that some creep kissed her?”

She laughed, circling her arms around his neck.

“The important part is now you know how to break my curse,” she purred, winking.

“I’m not letting any princes to kiss you,” he scowled.

“Yeah, no,” she managed to say through laughter, “it’s not about the title, it’s about lo… location!”

Good save, she thought. They danced around the word “love”, never actually saying it out-loud. It was hardly a commitment issue, since “I’m yours, as always” sounded much more definitive than “I love you”. She guessed that it was easier for him to define their relationship in terms of belonging, because it was more familiar and probably because it was easier on his self-deprecating issues. Fenris still goes on denial tangents when anyone tries to tell him that he’s doing okay with his life, perhaps a claim of “love” felt too pressuring on him, especially since he had no memories of any positive experiences of it. So Hawke left him this space to decide on labels, even though it was kinda hard to keep it from slipping off her tongue.

“Location?” he smirked with fond amusement, nuzzling at her cheek.

“Yeah, location. It’s crucial,” she grinned and closed her eyes expectantly. “Come on, we haven’t got all day. Varric is waiting!”

“Well, I’ve gotta try my best for Varric then,” he murmured and peppered her face with kisses: cheeks, forehead, tip of the nose, corner of the eye, - anywhere but the lips.

_Sure, now he’s getting back at me by being a tease._

“Hey, hey, no! You can’t just try as many times as you want until you guess right. It’s not how curses work, dude!”

“Really?”

“Yep. You’ve got one last try and that’s it,” she said firmly still with her eyes closed, trying to fight a smile.

“So, I have one try for a kiss that will definitely wake you up?” she could hear a grin in his voice as he hovered over her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his skin and his breath on her lips.

“Yeah…” she smiled, barely keeping herself from claiming his mouth.

“Better not take any chances then,” he said firmly and a second later she opened her eyes with a yelp as she felt his lips between her thighs.


End file.
